


On the Shore By the Stream

by goddity



Category: A Crown of Candy - Fandom, Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, liam talks about being ace, mostly self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28211454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddity/pseuds/goddity
Summary: Liam had been thinking about the conversation for a few weeks. He’d practiced it in his head, over and over, certain that he would have had it memorized by now. Yet with the time drawing nearer, he felt more tongue tied than ever. Primsy was a kind woman, more than that, she was a good friend and a loving partner. The idea of her not understanding or being angry was nearly unthinkable. But that knowledge did nothing to quell his nerves.
Relationships: Primsy Coldbottle/Liam Wilhelmina
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	On the Shore By the Stream

Spring came suddenly on the Dairy Islands, warm breezes softening the frost on the trees and parting the clouds for delicate sunshine. There was a silence that was far more welcoming than the roar of siblings and parents that filled the halls of the Great Stone Candy Mountains, and the quiet had become as much of Liam’s home as Primsy had. 

The duchess had been kind to offer him a room in a humble countryside estate, and even kinder to stay there with him when the seasons started to change. He was a long way from being a war guy but the tumultuous times on the battlefield had made Liam comfortable with being alone.

He stepped out into the early morning sun, taking a deep breath. The air in the Dairy Islands was a bit thicker, more humid, but tasted rich. Liam stepped lightly, the skills he learned on the battlefield put to good use - being gentle on fertile and giving land. It was good to be a seed guy again and to watch things grow. 

Flowers and berries surrounded the property and were almost perfectly ripe. Shades of pink and red and purple seemed to glow in the soft green leaves, eager to be pies and jams and drinks that would taste as sweet as the joy of creation. Liam took a small wicker basket from beside the door and set to work on a bush of lush red strawberries, nearly large enough to fill his palm. The duchess would join him soon, and he found that the berries made it easier for them to talk. A snack as they spoke would make it easier to sweeten their words. 

Liam had been thinking about the conversation for a few weeks. He’d practiced it in his head, over and over, certain that he would have had it memorized by now. Yet with the time drawing nearer, he felt more tongue tied than ever. Primsy was a kind woman, more than that, she was a good friend and a loving partner. The idea of her not understanding or being angry was nearly unthinkable. But that knowledge did nothing to quell his nerves. 

With the basket full enough for them to comfortably share, the young peppermint man took one of their picnic blankets off of the line and began his walk to the southern stream. He counted the steps in a desperate attempt to fill his mind with anything other than anxiety and fear for the coming conversation. He mumbled under his breath, trying to piece together the words.

He laid the blanket across the soft grass as the stream sang. Golden crackerfish swam upstream, the ripples of movement harmonizing with the stream’s dulcet song. Liam took his seat, gently placing the basket in the center of the blanket while he awaited the duchess. He folded his hands in his lap, hoping that Primsy would arrive before his thoughts overtook him. 

He thought of Sir Theobald and Gooey. He thought of Thaddeus. He thought of his father. He thought of the crackerfish swimming just beneath the surface and how it seemed every creature in Calorum had a better understanding of the world than he did. War was one thing - but love was another entirely. Primsy was blithe and becoming, and sensible and kind. A part of him felt that she knew more about him than he did; surely he wasn’t a difficult man to figure out, especially not for her. Primsy didn’t walk on a battlefield but it by no means made her foolish.

The archer sighed, holding his head in his hands. It should have been easy to her after everything he had seen. Speaking should have been a simple thing. They were alone out here, and they were safe, but the pain of his heart pounding against his ribs begged to differ.

“Master Wilhemina,” Primsy’s voice forced Liam back to reality, the blanket shifting beneath him as she stepped to sit beside him, gently lifting her dress. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?” 

She took her seat, white fabric pooling around her legs as she placed a second basket by the berries. As was customary for their picnics, Primsy brought with her a modest bottle of wine and a few jugs of water. It was atypical of them to have much alcohol but it was always a pleasant pairing. 

“Oh, hey, yeah.” The nerves crept around every word and it was clear Primsy saw his tension. Her own posture changed, shoulders pressing back a little. “Sorry, I don’t want you to think I’m not happy to see you Primsy. I’ve just wanted to talk to you about something for a long time.”

The duchess seemed to tense herself, a clear assumption written on her face. “Liam, you know that we don’t-” 

The archer waved his hands, a soft blur of pink. “No! No, it’s not… Obviously I wouldn’t have a problem with us being married if that was something that we both wanted, I just wouldn’t do something like that like this. I mean, I’d want it to be a conversation. It should be something we talk about instead of something I ask for.” 

“Liam…” Primsy’s expression was soft and tender. It shouldn’t have felt as if it were a grand gesture, to suggest such a thing, but Liam had a way about him that made it clear he was thinking of others when he spoke. He had come a long way from the boy who went to war.

“What did you want to talk about, then?” Primsy reached for the wine, pouring hardly more than a sip into each glass. It was a well-practiced gesture, more of a sip to calm the nerves than an invitation to intoxication. 

He took his own glass from her hand, frustrated with the blush he felt plague his cheeks when their hands brushed. He held the glass in his lap, absently swirling the wine rather than drinking. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot about myself. And you, and the way that.. We act together.” Liam kept his eyes down, the movement of the liquid enticing the words out of him. “I really like you Primsy. I love you. And all the things that I knew about how to love someone seem totally useless when I’m with you. We’re not like the people in books, or the other people I know. We’re different.”

“Aye,” Primsy responded with gentle encouragement. “We are different.” 

“It’s not a bad thing!” The archer hastily added. “But I feel like I’m doing things wrong. Lately I just haven’t been able to stop thinking about how my dad talked to his partners, or how Gooey and Theobald talked to each other. I just keep asking myself ‘Is that how we’re supposed to be? Is it really normal to not want that?’ And sometimes I do want that, but I get so nervous when I’m around you. Not a bad nervous…” 

“Just nervous.” Primsy finished politely, doing her best to let the peppermint know she was listening. “You know that it’s quite fine that we’re different from them, don’t you? Every relationship is different Liam. And if you find that you’re… _interested_ ,” She chose the word carefully, both as a lady and a partner who didn’t want to make assumptions. “That there’s no bother with that either Liam, so long as you mind my head.” 

“Yeah, I do.” Liam traced his fingers over the stem of the glass. “And I know that if that’s what you wanted, you’d tell me too. But I guess I’m sorry that we’re not like them? I’m sorry that I don’t know what to do. If we’re at a party, like, are we supposed to be kissing in front of people? Am I supposed to hold you around the waist, or make dirty jokes? I feel like I spent my entire life around people who knew what to do and I never learned the rules.” 

Primsy put her glass aside, planting it in the grass with enough firmness to keep it from toppling. She turned her head back to Liam. He was growing pinker by the minute, ripening like the fresh berries he’d picked for the occasion. 

“Is that what you want?” She asked with a gentle sincerity. 

“I don’t know.” He answered in a voice so quiet that he feared only the gods heard. 

The silence hung in the air, unsweetened by the delights they had set between them. Primsy thought for a moment, taking a singular deep purple berry and gently dropping it into Liam’s wine. Bubbles excitedly fizzed, engrossing the fruit and drawing Liam’s eyes up the glass to the duchess’s hand, and eventually to her face. She smiled softly, a tenderness in her eyes that always put Liam at ease. 

“It’s okay to not know.” She answered with a wisdom beyond her years. “The wonderful thing about not knowing is that you can try. There’s bound to be another ball, another debut, another tourney. And if you find that’s not what you want, it simply doesn’t have to happen again.”

“Right,” The word escaped with a breath that Liam had held in. Primsy didn’t speak like a warrior or a champion. Her power wasn’t in a weapon or manipulation, it came from her sincerity. “I-I know, I mean, I’ve known that… That if I tried something like that, that you would understand. But I’m.. I’m scared of being wrong, I think. And.. There’s something else.”

Liam reached into the glass, carefully plucking the fruit from the wine and eating it. The wine had a bitterness that he’d yet to get used to, a deep smokeyness that was thankfully cut by the berry bursting between his teeth. He lifted the glass to his lips, the single sip going down quickly but eliciting a wrinkle of his nose. 

“Sometimes,” The words were strained. He had spent so long preparing and practicing and the preparation did nothing to save him. “I think about you.”

He didn’t need to elaborate. Primsy felt a blush come to her own cheeks in response. 

“But it’s not… I don’t know how to explain it. I think about you because I want to make you happy, I love you Primsy. I want to be able to be the best man I can be for you, because you deserve to have that. And yeah I know we’ve talked about if you wanted to find other people, I wouldn’t have a problem at all with that, I know I can’t really fulfill every need and if you wanted to be having sex with someone all the time, it’d probably be better if it wasn’t me.”

It was clear he was doing his best to maintain composure, but his voice broke further with every word. It had been said to him, over and over again, that all was fair in love and war. Liam had seen less war than others and knew that even war had more proper rules than this. There were rules in combat, in chivalry, in tactics and planning. Here he sat, a glass in his hands and an ache in his heart that felt harder to overcome than a grave - and at least he’d been able to walk away from a grave. The problem wouldn’t stop simply because he had stopped speaking.

“And sometimes I worry that I’m only thinking that stuff for myself because I’m horny or I think that maybe… Maybe if I try hard enough, we can just be like them. I could be like Stilton, or Theo, or Amethar - I could be a man who gives you more than just an emotional relationship. We could be like them, and things could be normal and you wouldn’t need to ever think of finding someone else. I know we don’t have to be, but I just… I want to feel normal, I guess? I’m sorry, I’m definitely rambling, I spent so long trying to practice having this conversation and let me tell you it did _not_ help.” 

Liam put his glass down with no regard to which way the bowl faced. He leaned back onto the blanket, staring up at the sky and releasing a shaky breath that took two tries to fully replace. He closed his eyes, giving his head a moment to spin without being upright. All of Calorum spun around him as he tried to catch his breath, only coming to a stop when a gentle, cool hand caressed his forehead. 

His hair was brushed aside as he opened his eyes, Primsy silhouetted by the warm glow of sunshine. It was as if she were framed by divine light, by a distant Bulb who never cared for anyone as much as they cared for each other. 

“Liam,” She spoke in harmony with the stream. “This is enough. _You_ are enough. You’re enough for me. You’re enough for Candia, for the Dairy Islands, for Calorum. You don’t need to be Stilton, and in fact I’d rather prefer that you weren’t. Between the two of us, I don’t feel the wanton desire to be stabbed again. I don’t feel the desire to find someone else either.” Her skin was soft, a thumb brushing over his cheek. She moved to pull away as if to give him space but was halted by a soft peppermint hand weaving fingers between her own. Liam’s touch always left a delicate tingling in her skin. He held her hand against his face, closing his eyes and moving his lips to gently kiss the junction of her thumb to her palm. 

It was true that both war and love were complicated: nuances and languages and practices that were lost with each victory, the way life changes around it, and the fear of vulnerability that the others will find in you; but Liam found himself at Primsy’s mercy, and she showed him nothing but compassion. Duchess Primsy Coldbottle withdrew her hand when Liam released it, replacing it with a strawberry. She watched as he ate, surprisingly delicate and cautious to never bite too much. She had watched him during his stay at the estate, watching him tend to the plants and bring life where it hadn’t been before. War had changed him in a way that it changed very few men; the war and fighting had made Liam more compassionate. Loss clouded people, but in loss Liam found the strength to create and grow. He channeled that into beautiful succulent fruits, in Ceresian spices that stung with every bite, in Candian flowers that turned decadent colors during Highharvest, and into a peace of mind that the peppermint ward had likely never expected. 

She replaced the fruit with another a brief moment after he finished, not so bold as to feed it to him herself. Liam smiled graciously and quietly repeated the process. Primsy helped herself a few smaller blueberries that popped from their skins with the slightest provocation. She poured a bit more wine into her glass, more accustomed to the bitterness than the Candian. The countryside was idyllic and quiet; a welcome respite from the work of a regent. It was comfortable and calm and having Liam as company was both an emotional comfort and a physical one. It was easy to feel safe around him, he made it easy. Of course, she also had a great confidence in his ability to keep them safe. 

Primsy knew how hard Liam worked to ensure that they were both happy, often to his own detriment. The Count of Freezyberg always made a point to see that everyone in his presence was content and provided for, determined to never see one of his own in need. She had noticed that he frequently stopped short of his own needs or put them aside in hopes of helping others first. 

She looked over the stream. It ebbed and flowed as ever, indifferent to their conversation on it’s banks. Across the way trees swayed, slowly being swallowed into the distance by a sparse forest that blocked the horizon. This was a peaceful place and one that Liam deserved. He deserved more than a simple cottage and a quiet stream with delicate foliage but he was happy here, and that knowledge was far more important than the decadence of noble life. 

The duchess heard the soft exhale of her champion as he sat up, purposefully keeping her eyes across the horizon as he lifted his hands to wipe his face. 

“Are you alright?” She asked once he lowered them, gently turning her gaze to him. 

“Yeah.” Liam nodded, setting his glass upright before pouring another sip’s worth into the bowl. “I’m.. I’m really glad you understand. I knew you would, but I still worried.” 

“I wish I could have said something sooner.” Primsy said. She let her hand slip from her lap to rest atop Liam’s. Striped pink fingers closed around her own, and the two enjoyed an understanding silence. “I never wanted to assume what you were feeling, but I could tell something was off. I hoped you would talk to me but I wanted it to be in your own time. I’m glad that you did; that you trust me enough to confide in me…” She gently brought his hand to her lips, placing a soft kiss on his calloused knuckles. 

“I love you Primsy.” 

“I love you, Liam.”

The duchess took the emptied glasses and opened wine along with the small wicker baskets. The archer took the blanket, giving a reasonable shaking before folding it in his arms. The two joined hands, slowly walking from the stream. The sound faded behind them as they approached the estate, a small cottage prepared to welcome them home.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written something! I hope you all enjoy this fluffy fic <3 Liam being ace is something very near and dear to my heart.


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